* * * * *

The Gosherd, scarce, his mirthful meed
Had won, ere Tibbald of Stow,--
With look as pert as the pouncing glede
When he eyeth the chick below,--
Scraped his crowd,
And clear and loud,
As the merle-cock shrill,
Or the bell from the hill,
Thus tuned his throat to his rough sire's praise--
His sire the swineherd of olden days:--

The Swineherd's Song.

I sing of a swineherd, in Lindsey, so bold,
Who tendeth his flock in the wide forest-fold:
He sheareth no wool from his snouted sheep:
He soweth no corn, and none he doth reap:
Yet the swineherd no lack of good living doth know:
Come jollily trowl
The brown round bowl,
Like the jovial swineherd of Stow!

He hedgeth no meadows to fatten his swine:
He renteth no joist for his snorting kine:
They rove through the forest, and browse on the mast,--
Yet, he lifteth his horn, and bloweth a blast,
And they come at his call, blow he high, blow he low!--
Come, jollily trowl
The brown round bowl,
And drink to the swineherd of Stow!

He shunneth the heat 'mong the fern-stalks green,--
Or dreameth of elves 'neath the forest treen:
He wrappeth him up when the oak leaves sere
And the ripe acorns fall, at the wane o' the year;
And he tippleth at Yule, by the log's cheery glow.--
Come, jollily trowl
The brown round bowl,
And pledge the bold swineherd of Stow!

The bishop he passeth the swineherd in scorn,--
Yet, to mass wends the swineherd at Candlemas morn;
And he offereth his horn, at our Lady's hymn,
With bright silver pennies filled up to the brim:--
Saith the bishop, "A very good fellow, I trow!"--
Come, jollily trowl
The brown round bowl,
And honour the swineherd of Stow!

And now the brave swineherd, in stone, ye may spy,
Holding his horn, on the Minster so high!--
But the swineherd he laugheth, and cracketh his joke,
With his pig-boys that vittle beneath the old oak,--
Saying, "Had I no pennies, they'd make me no show!"--
Come, jollily trowl
The brown round bowl,
And laugh with the swineherd of Stow![16]

* * * * *

So merrily the chorus rose,--
For every guest chimed in,--
That, had the dead been there to doze,
They had surely waked with the din!--
So the rustics said while their brains were mello